


Shuttered

by absurdvampmuse



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 19:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10142765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absurdvampmuse/pseuds/absurdvampmuse
Summary: Betty&Jughead (Bughead) Set right after episode 6. Jughead pays Betty a nightly visit./He had finally given in to the pull. He climbed the ladder and stepped into her ridiculously feminine bedroom. Jughead couldn’t help but feel as if he was encroaching on her, like he wasn’t meant to see her bared like this. “No more nightmares tonight,” Jughead promised her./





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the comic books or the TV series. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own creative purposes. All I own is my imagination and the laptop I wrote this on.
> 
> A/N: With this pairing still running rampant in my head, I had to get this piece out before the next episode. The characterizations are a work in progress, but I'm really trying. This one is for all the Bughead shippers. Your feedback is always highly appreciated since I'm always looking to improve! Also, if you know of a Bughead story that I absolutely need to read, feel free to direct me towards it (even though I've already read quite a few of them). :)

**Shuttered**

_The world could stop_  
_And everything could all fall down_  
_But I will never give you up._

After coming home from reporting the car, with an excuse that she spent her night at the annual variety show with her friends, Betty had no trouble falling asleep. It was more the sleep itself that proved to be troubled, spawning nightmares. Nightmares in which she relived watching Polly as she was pulled away from her and dragged down the hall, the promise she had frantically whispered in her sister's ear, the blood on the broken glass of the window. It was a restless slumber, one she wanted to escape, but her mind kept her under nonetheless.

And that was exactly how Jughead found her. Not having a place to call his own to begin with, together with his inability to sit still, he had made the walk over to Betty's house. His body was burdensome with emotions he was mostly unfamiliar with, threatening to eat him up from the inside. It made him jittery, so _he had finally given in to the pull._ He had stared up at the window with slight incredulity at the fact that Betty had simply left it open after everything. Concurrently he was having a difficult time not seeing it as some sort of sign, even though he recognized that he tended to be of a too cynical nature to read into things that much.

Still, he climbed the ladder and stepped into her ridiculously feminine bedroom, walking in on her curled up on her side, breathing slightly irregular and expression strained. Jughead couldn't help but feel as if he was encroaching on her like he wasn't meant to see her bared like this. No longer satisfied with merely standing there quietly in the dark room, he was at her bedside with a few long strides. "Betty," he whispered as he crouched down. He touched his fingers to the crinkle in her brow, sweeping them upwards to capture the loose locks that masked her full face from him. He cupped the side of her face, not thinking about the action as he felt practically compelled to do so. "Betty," he tried a little louder.

It was his voice that did it, pulled her from her dreams abruptly and caused her to wake with a start, a haunted look left in her eyes since she didn't recognize him at first. As soon as she got her bearings, relief directly followed, sweeping over her features and washing away most of the worry lines.

"I couldn't sleep," Jughead told her a half-truth. "You looked as if you were in pain; I had to intervene," he justified, removing his hand from her face so he could push himself upwards.

"I was trying to wake up," Betty said softly, sleep still tainting her voice. She watched him sit down on the edge of her bed, taking note of the respectable amount of space he left between the two of them and how he pocketed his hands in his jacket, keeping them close. Yet his eyes remained on her, gaze vulnerable and intense as he sat in front of her. "Nightmares," Betty clarified finally, finding it suddenly hard to speak. She pushed the covers down, sitting up. "What are you doing here?" she asked, thoughtlessly dismissing his earlier explanation, almost as if knowing that there was more to his visit. _Or perhaps hoping._

Betty reached for the lamp situated on her nightstand, though Jughead moved quickly, clasping her wrist, and stopped her. "Best not to take any risks and upset the parentals even more. Specifically, your mom. She scares me." He let go of Betty, the covers slipping down even further as did his gaze, it was a movement that was out of his control.

He was given a glimpse of skin she would normally and self-consciously keep covered up during the day. A loose long-sleeved shirt that slipped down her bare shoulders and shorts that barely concealed anything at all, all she was wearing. The lack of modesty made him smile and when Betty caught his gaze with her own, she found the open delight contagious. It gave her the confidence to keep from pulling the covers back up.

"So, are you going to tell me what you're doing in my room so late, Juggy?" The childhood nickname slipped out unintentionally yet it added just the right amount of coyness to Betty's question for it to come across as flirtation. So, he playfully taunted back, "The wide-open window was practically an invitation."

Betty's eyes flicked from him to the window, lingering. She started rubbing her arm as she answered honestly, "It felt claustrophobic with it closed."

Jughead offered up his own admission with a shrug of his shoulders. "I wanted to see how you were doing now that it all had some time to… marinate," he emphasized the last word, waiting to go on until he had her eyes on him once more. "A lot happened today. You went through a lot."

"So did you."

"Yeah, but it's different."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. Thanks for playing the role of my sidekick, though."

Betty offered up a smile to him and Jughead bowed his head at her with a theatrical flourish of his hand. "Ever at your service, my lady." The amusement slipped from his features almost immediately, a frown taking its place. "You shouldn't be having nightmares, Betts. Not that it's not understandable, but I'd rather you—"

"Jughead, are you actually rambling?" Betty stopped him mid-sentence.

Color flooded his cheeks and he was grateful when she changed the topic quickly, without him having to come up with an excuse. "Care to tell me why you are still up, wandering the neighborhood?"

He shrugged again. "I've no better place to be," he told her the truth, though he didn't elaborate on it. Because somewhere, deep inside, it still hurt that he was alone, drifting, with no harbor in sight. Though Betty had become his watchtower, guiding him with her lights and letting him know that she was here for him, _easily located whenever he needed her._

Fortunately, Betty read the discomfort the words aroused in him and didn't push for anything more. "Jughead," she began, biting her bottom lip, "do you want to talk about what happened this afternoon, between us?"

There was an excited glint in his eyes as he looked back up. "What, no random vehicle popping into your mind this time to distract you and wreck the moment."

Betty gave his chest a gentle push. "I'm all _yours_ —ears," she re-worded quickly, although she wasn't fast enough to cover up her slip of the tongue and now it was her turn to blush. She looked down, tugging at the sleeves of her shirt.

A warm feeling spread throughout his chest, culminating in his abdomen, and the eruption of affection temporarily hampered his ability to take a full breath. He silently counted to five, giving himself some time to gain control of his breathing. "Did it, the kiss, mean something?" he asked tentatively.

Her eyes shot to his, observing the apprehension behind them. "Of course," she responded swiftly. "Or it seemed like it did." She looked down at her hands as they were nervously pulling at her sleeves.

Jughead put his hands on top of hers. "This exchange is uncharacteristically uncommunicative of us. If anyone can articulate a thought, it would be me and at times it is literally impossible to shut you up. Allow me a second attempt, will you." Jughead dipped his head, seeking out her bright, baby-blues in the dark.

Betty nodded, aware that her hands were trembling ever so slightly beneath his own. She tried her hardest to focus on his words instead of how he felt or how his proximity made her feel. "I kissed you. I kissed you because I wanted to," Jughead expanded on his thoughts. "I found pleasure in kissing you, Betty. I don't know how to do this, express this side of me. Not well, anyway."

"You're always underestimating yourself, Juggy," Betty contradicted him tenderly, almost lovingly.

"Does that mean the kiss was to your satisfaction as well?"

Betty laughed, covering her mouth with her hand at the sudden loudness of the act. She nodded, dropping her hand. "I liked the kiss. A lot."

"What does that mean, for us?" He searched her eyes as if he could read the answer there before she actually spoke it out loud.

"I've really come to appreciate your friendship these past weeks, you being there to talk to when other people were too busy, your derisive humor that isn't necessarily intended to comfort but manages to put everything in perspective nonetheless—"

Jughead stopped her. "It's fine, Betty. I've learned to brace for impact so no need—"

But she ignored him, afraid that she wouldn't have the courage to get it all out if she stopped now. "I wouldn't want to compromise our friendship. I don't want to lose that part of us. No matter what."

Jughead nodded, retracting his hands to pocket them once again in his jacket, retreating and putting up the shield he donned around most people. "Friendship is important," he agreed with her, _even though his heart wasn't in it_. "It tends to last longer than any other relationship, other than the familial kind." The exception being in his case, of course.

Betty felt his disappointment chip away at her heart and, unable to stop herself, she got up on her knees instantaneously to get closer to Jughead, wanting to comfort him. She clasped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. "I wasn't done," she stated. "I was going to add that we need to make a promise to one another that we will only explore whatever the kiss incited inside the both of us if we agree to stay friends first, during and even after. No matter how hard it may be."

"Strings, huh?" But she felt the lines of his body soften beneath her and his hands moved from his pockets to boldly rest on her hips as she leaned into him some more. "Say it, Juggy," she prompted.

He looked up at her from beneath his lashes, almost shyly, giving her a glance of the boy who had been let down so many times that he had come to expect it. He liked to tell himself that he had hardened himself against the setbacks, but, in fact, every instance still cut deep. Jughead let out a breath. "Of course, I promise, Betts."

She steadied herself by lowering one of her hands to his shoulder, pushing down lightly. "You have to mean it. Not just say it because you're a guy and—"

He scoffed. "Do you honestly think so less of me? I'm sitting here in the dark, preparing myself for rejection, which is sadly something I've almost perfected. Although this would've definitely hurt, the impact of it all, I mean," he courageously bared his soul to her.

She bit her lip, seeing the raw emotion pass through him and she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck in an embrace, pressing her body as close to him as she dared to. He felt her lips graze his collarbone, sending a shiver through his body that stirred the deepest part of him. His movements were a little clumsy as he slid one arm around her waist while he slid the other up her back to lightly pull at her golden locks. It was a declaration of protection, possession even, though he would never word it in such a way to her.

Betty sighed and breathed against him, content to just sit there like that as he was with holding her. It was a first for the both of them, a connection that ran much deeper than a stolen look or kiss. "Do you want to kiss me again?" Betty broke the silence after a while, pushing herself into an upright position so she could lock eyes with him.

In an unexpected move, Jughead shook his head. "No, well, yes," he contradicted himself, "but not tonight as then I'd only be proving your earlier point about me making an empty promise. So not tonight. Your loss, by the way," he finished, revealing a smirk that was crafted to draw her in even more.

Betty let out a laugh and made to get off him, but before she disengaged completely, she angled herself close enough so her lips could momentarily brush against his ear. "It's late. You can stay over, since your intent is honorable."

His smirk widened at her remark as he considered the invitation. "I'll sleep on the floor," he said, meaning it. It was enough to be near her, able to take comfort in her presence and the silent understanding she always seemed to have for him. It was incredibly hard to explain to somebody what it felt like to be homesick for a home he never really had. But she seemed to comprehend what it could do to a person, just like he got that it wasn't always the house that constituted the feeling of being home.

Betty slid back underneath the covers, shrugging her shoulders at his offer. "If you want," she called his bluff with ease.

Jughead pretended to think about it, one finger on his chin and head tilted upwards. It lasted about a second before he began shedding his jacket, folding it up neatly before leaning over to take off his shoes. He finished off his routine by pulling the crown-beanie from his disorderly mane and plopping it on top of his jacket, comfortable enough to separate himself from his security blanket, exchanging it for another, much better one. "What can I say, I'm weak."

She watched him climb over her as if he knew by instinct that she preferred sleeping on the side of the bed nearest to the window. He got under the covers with her, holding up one arm so she could snuggle up against him, a both gallant and forward gesture on his part. He wrapped his arm around Betty while pulling the covers up over the two of them. "This is the first time I've been invited to a slumber party, let alone a coed one," he muttered the last words as if he was revealing a secret to her.

Betty burst out laughing, muffling the sound by pressing her face against his chest, her fingers hooking themselves into the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

Desire flared up inside of Jughead, a reaction to their closeness both physically and emotionally, and he pressed his lips to the crown of her head.

Betty continued to hold on to him, her bare thighs against his abdomen and his bare locks brushing her face. "Night, Juggy."

"No more nightmares tonight," Jughead promised her.

_And he was right._

_He never made promises that he didn't intend to keep._


End file.
